


When I See You Again

by Sheselectric



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2020-09-07 22:44:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheselectric/pseuds/Sheselectric
Summary: There are two things to do in this world: endure and survive. As she finds herself in a situation she couldn't have predicted, Joel turns out to be the one that makes her chances of survival go up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been heavily edited as of February, 2020. If you're back for the update then make sure to re-read the previous chapters :)
> 
> I’m tagging this as Joel/Reader because my OC is intentionally left vague for all of your self-insert needs.

The cabin was off the beaten path and clearly past its prime. A perfect spot to lie low should it be unoccupied. 

She crouched in the bushes and waited. If someone was to come home, they’d do it now with the sunset. 

But no-one did. It might have been her lucky day.

She stood up from her post and quietly made her way to the door, looking around to make sure that no-one was behind her before pulling the knob.

The door didn’t open.

She pulled a bit harder and they still wouldn’t budge, so she decided to lean her body against the door and push instead. It was closed shut, probably sealed with planks. Someone must have locked themselves inside during the initial outbreak and if the planks were never removed… Well, that was never a good sign. 

She slid the knife out of her backpack and started to walk around the house, looking for an entry point. It wasn’t a lost cause yet. Cabins like that usually had structural damage -- decades of abandonment leaving their mark. Then it was just a matter of killing whatever was inside and she’d have a safe space to survive the winter. 

She was rounding the walls, her hands searching for a compromised plank, but none came loose. One window seemed to be unplanked though. As her eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, she could see that windows on the opposite side of the cabin were not planked either. Since someone didn’t finish their job, the possibility was that they left the house rather than succumbed to infection inside. 

She braced herself against the wall and reached for the window. To her surprise, it gave in with a small squeak. She lifted herself with a small grunt and slid in softly enough not to attract anything that might have been inside. She lit her lighter and looked around.

A kitchen.

The fire was reflecting against counters and utensils scattered around, none of them raising alarm. Survivors didn't need mixing bowls or rusty kettles. She quietly moved forward, scanning her surroundings -- listening to possible noises from within the house.

It was quiet.

She relaxed a bit as she entered the living area. The moon was shining through the unplanked windows and things lying on the coffee table caught her attention. She hid her lighter and bent over the couch to examine. A few bandages, some peroxide, and ammo.

Someone was living here.

Fear settled in her gut. She straightened herself in a hurry and her back was struck by something hard.

“Move and that'll be the last thing you do,” a male voice spoke from behind her.

She slowly inhaled. If he was a trapper, she would already be dead. 

Another survivor was little consolation though. She had no choice, but to try and talk her way out.

“Relax,” she spoke finally. “I didn’t know someone was living here.”

“Tough luck,” the voice replied and she huffed.

She slowly turned herself around, the rifle now pointing directly at her chest. The man didn’t flinch, his eyes scanning her suspiciously.

He was visibly older than her, his face roughed up by time and, no doubt, experiences.

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” His expression was blank. “I have no time to play. Get out. _Now_.”

The gun was still pointed at her.

She didn’t doubt that he’d drag her out if she didn’t move, but her survival instinct was stronger than anything else, and she knew that getting out into the night was too much of a risk.

“You must know what happens after twilight. Let me stay the night and I'll go first thing in the morning," she said quietly but firmly. 

His face hardened.

“Ain’t happenin’. Get out.”

She waged her options—she could still attempt to sway him, but the gun pointed at her chest said on wrong move and you’re dead. She raised her hands in defeat.

“I’m leaving. Lower your rifle.”

He looked at her for a few more seconds and slowly did as she asked.

“Thanks,” she said while walking to the kitchen. 

She turned the corner without looking at him.

“You can stay this night," he said as she was reaching for the door. "But you leave tomorrow. Either willingly or I'll drag you out.”

She smiled under her nose. He wasn’t a total monster then.

She came back to the living room and settled into the couch. Her stomach rumbled and, for whatever reason, it made her feel embarrassed. She reached into her backpack quickly and fished an energy bar. As she was unpacking it, she could see his back, the rifle holstered safely over his shoulder. He didn’t trust her and he was right to do so -- most survivors were ruthless, no matter how innocent they seemed.

“I'm gonna cook some meat. Eating those destroys your stomach,” he said without turning around. 

She didn’t know was whether it was an invitation to eat with him or a lecture. She put the bar down either way. He finally stopped whatever he was doing and marched into the kitchen.

She sank deeper into the couch, her muscles finally relaxing. Past weeks consisted of her sleeping on the ground with one eye open -- the squeaky, dusty couch was an upgrade. 

“Come on,” he said without looking at her.

It seemed that he did invite her to eat after all.

~

She knew how to hunt. Her group -- when she still had one -- never stayed in one place for too long, and it was a useful skill. Unfortunately, she was terrible at skinning animals, so she preferred to scavenge for cans and dry foods. Less hassle. 

The taste of fresh meat was amazing though and she devoured it with no care for manners. Not that anyone cared about them in these times. The man, however, was slow and gentle while eating. She assumed that he had it often. 

“Been living here long?” She asked as she finished chewing a piece of meat.

He didn’t look up from his meal.

“What is it to you?”

“Nothing, just making a conversation.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Just short of a month.”

She stretched her back and looked around.

“I'm moving North. Want to get to Boston before winter comes," she said.

It wasn’t entirely true. Her original plan was scrapped as the cabin turned out to be inhabited. 

“You will die before you make it to Boston. The surrounding area is clear in maybe 4-5 miles radius. Beyond the river, it’s trappers and infected.”

She huffed. 

“What makes you think I can’t deal with trappers and infected? I made it this far.”

For the first time, some emotion crossed his face. He was either amused or irritated, she couldn’t tell.

“Then the weather will kill you.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, but she didn’t pursue the conversation. 

~

They returned to the cabin and as soon as she sat on the couch, she started talking. Her irritation with the man had passed, and whether she liked it or not, she was starved for human connection.

“I never got your name."

“Joel,” he answered as he sat in the armchair standing opposite of her couch. 

“Jane,” she said even though he didn’t ask.

He didn’t acknowledge it either. It was as if he didn’t want to know her. As if she was just a nuance. The harsh truth was that she was -- it was a world of strangers you didn't want to share your space with.

Joel eased into his armchair and studied her face carefully. 

“How old are you?” His question came as a surprise.

“25,” she answered truthfully. “How old are you?”

”46,” he said without looking at her.

She assessed him well then. He was older. 

It seemed like the conversation died there though, so she lifted herself off the couch and asked:

“Is there some water I can wash my face with?” 

He grumped under his breath.

“Bucket by the door. There should be a cloth in one of the drawers.” 

She felt relieved. It’s been a few days since she had access to clean water. She stepped into the kitchen and quickly removed her jacket, along with a blouse that she had underneath.

She placed the bucket by her legs and wetted the cloth. Then she leaned over the sink and started cleaning her face -- it felt good to get rid of all the sweat and dirt. She wetted it again and slid the cloth down her neck and cleavage.

She could swear she felt his gaze on her back the entire time, but she didn’t turn around to check. It didn't matter anyway. It was his place and it wasn't as if bathrooms worked out there in the woods.

When she was finished, she put the blouse back on and came back into the room.

"You can sleep on the couch," he said. "I don't use it." 

"Thank you," she said but all she got in return was a dismissive grunt. 


	2. Chapter 2

It was barely dawn when Jane woke up. Not out of ordinary -- you wake up early, so you can cover more ground. If you're alone, every hour with the sun out counts. 

She stretched, a pleasant crack coming from somewhere in her spine, and slid out of her sleeping bag. She sat quietly for a few minutes, either fully waking up or prolonging the inevitable. Eventually, she rolled her sleeping bag and hid it in the backpack.

When she entered the kitchen, Joel was sitting at the table, tinkering with a rifle in front of him. She reached for her jacket and put it on. She didn't want to disturb him but it seemed rude to walk out without a word. 

“I better go now,” she said, others words lost somewhere in her throat. 

They didn't matter anyway, because Joel looked at her with no emotion on his face before standing up with an annoyed grunt.She stepped aside as he approached the door to remove the construction holding them in place. 

She didn’t know why she felt a certain kind of blues. Maybe because it was weeks since she spent the night with another person, or maybe because Joel seemed like the type that could handle himself. Ones like him were sought after in the apocalypse.

Finally, the door opened. He was seizing her up and down.

“Take a northeastern route. It’s a shortcut. You may be able to cross the river there."

“Thanks,” she mumbled and walked outside.

Jane turned around to look at him one more time, but he was staring at something in the distance.

~

She spent the next hours making her way through the forest. The air was icy cold, but the freshness made her fully awake and glad to be moving forward. At one point, she almost forgot what kind of world she was living in.

Until she heard voices. 

Her blood ran cold but Jane couldn't allow herself to freeze. She got down on her knees and crawled into the bushes, blood pumping in her ears as she tried to listen. 

She reached for her knife and held it with shaky hands. She was praying for voices to go away but it never worked like that.

“Who’s there? Come out, come out whoever you are," a man called out. 

Jane held her breath. She remembered how in the previous life someone told her that it was safer to run away than to play dead. Before she knew it, she was up on her legs and sprinting in the direction that she came from. She could hear frantic steps behind her.

Her heart was thumping in her chest, throat dry and painful as she jumped over the log and continued up the hill. It was a matter of survival and she'd rather drop dead than give up now. But she couldn't have predicted her foot catching over a root. She fell down with a thud and gasped for air at the very same time as the voices caught up with her. 

“What have we got here,” one of them said. He grabbed her ankle and turned Jane on her back. The man was scruffy-looking, same as his companion who was towering over her with a creepy smile. “Don’t worry girly, we just want to chat.” He let go of her ankle to draw his knife and Jane started to back away quickly, her body digging into the dirt. “Hey, hey,” he said aggressively while bending over to catch her leg. 

"Fuck off," she shrieked and kicked him straight in the face.

He stumbled back, blood spraying from his nose. The other man pulled out his knife.

“Little bitch,” he huffed moving forward, and before she could dodge him, the blade sliced through her thigh.

Jane screamed at the same time as a gun went off. One of the men fell down, blood and gore covering everything around him. The other one started backing away with visible fear in his eyes. As he was about to raise his hands, pleading to whoever was holding a gun for mercy, a bullet flew directly through his forehead.

Jane started to crawl away. She wasn't going to die here. A slicing pain radiated from her thigh, but she didn't care. She had no idea who killed those men and she wasn't about to stay and figure it out. 

But as she heard his voice, her head jerked in his direction automatically. 

“Joel?" She gasped. "What are you doing here?” 

That was one person she did _not_ expect to see.

“I tried to catch up with you,” he said flatly and extended his hand to help her up.

“Well, you did,” she said as she caught it. 

When Jane stood up, she decided that the bleeding was worse than she thought. Before she could joke about it, Joel kneeled next to her, trying to seize the wound. 

“It’s not deep enough to have hurt the muscle, but you still need stitches.” He took out a bandage out of his backpack and secured it around the wound. “Can you walk?”

She took a step forward. It hurt but she knew she had to make it.

“It’s all right.”

~

After some time, her thigh became almost completely numb. Jane decided that it was better than constant, irking pain. 

“Why were you trying to catch up with me?” She asked Joel to stop focusing on the goddamned wound. 

He didn’t answer for a few seconds.

“I decided you’d have a better chance of crossing that river with another gun at your side. I needed to hunt anyway," he didn't look at her, "but now it seems that I have to take you back to the cabin.”

Jane sensed that he wasn't happy about it. 

“Well, you could have left me there.” He huffed but remained quiet. “All right then,” she whispered.

As they were nearing the cabin, blood started soaking through the bandages. Jane didn’t say anything, but Joel noticed anyway.

“You are making it worse by walking. I shoulda known that." He stopped and she almost bumped into him. He scanned her from head to toe, his expression unclear. “I’ll carry you,” he said finally.

Now she was doing the huffing.

“You don’t need to do that. We’re not far away now."

His forehead wrinkled in irritation.

“You’re not the one who’s goin' to have to stitch that up and I ain’t gonna mess around with an unclean cut.”

Well, put like that. She quietly nodded her head, but he didn’t seem comfortable with touching her, or, maybe, touching her so closely. She wasn’t a damsel in distress type either. Still, once she was in his arms, it felt nice. Too nice for her own liking. She ascribed it to the loss of blood.

~

They made it into the cabin by dusk. Joel put her down on the couch, gently enough for her thigh not to get any worse, and went to look for the medkit. Jan had had her fair share of injuries, but the thought of stitches never got any more pleasant. She had a mark on her forearm after some badly done ones.

“You need to remove the trousers,” Joel said without looking at her.

Another awkward moment. Just what they needed. She slowly removed the bandage and the sight of sticky blood around the wound made her feel nauseous.

It was weird. Decades of this life and blood and wounds were still hard to look at. On living people anyway. Guts of the infected stopped being disgusting when she was still a child.

Joel kneeled by her legs, holding thread and needle in one hand, and a bottle of an unidentified liquid in another.

“What’s that?” She asked pointing at the bottle.

“Moonshine.”

She took it from his hands and put it to her mouth. The taste was vile but then again, she didn’t have much experience with alcohol. It was mostly a medical ration -- at least where she came from. 

Her face twisted as she handed the bottle back to him. She thought she saw a hint of a smile on his lips, but it disappeared too quickly to be sure.

“That’s one way to go about it,” he said under his breath and poured some on her wound. 

If moonshine tasted terrible, the pain was the equivalent. Jane hissed a quiet _fuck_ as her wound started burning. Joel seemed unphased. She wondered if he had to stitch many people in his time -- maybe he used to be a doctor.

“Don’t move now,” he said and put a hand on the inside of her thigh, looking at the cut.

He started stitching her. The alcohol that she drank sedated her enough to not scream, but she was wincing every time the needle went through her skin. 

Joel looked at her and for a second she believed that he felt sorry for her. “All done,” he said finally, and she exhaled loudly.

“Sorry for wincing,” she shifted in her seat.

Joel slowly rolled the bandage around her thigh, holding it in place tightly. Then he collected the rest of the stuff and stood up.

“No running for you now."

She reached for her trousers and slowly slid them back on her legs. The alcohol and winding down adrenaline made her sleepy. She lied on her back and closed her eyes, not caring what Joel thought about it.

~

Jane woke up completely lost. It took her a few seconds to remember what happened and where she was. When she did, she stood up, wincing as the muscles in her thigh moved -- with no alcohol in her bloodstream, the stitches were annoying. She walked to the window, the first rays of sun hitting her face.

It was then that she realized he wasn't around.

“Joel?" She called out quietly.

There was no response. _Figures_. It wasn’t her business to know his location, and she was sure that he would tell her the same.

Still, she preferred to know where he was. Just in case. She went through the kitchen and reached for the door, realizing that they weren’t obstructed. She slowly peaked outside and her heart fluttered when she noticed him making his way down the clearing. He turned around as if he sensed her presence from meters way. He didn’t seem happy to see her though, so the flutter stopped.

She retreated into the kitchen quietly as he continued his walk into the trees.

With nothing better to do, she started going through all the drawers and cabinets. Even though life after the infection was shitty, there was one part about it that she liked. _Scavenging_. There was something fascinating about walking into houses that stood abandoned for years.

Sometimes they’d bring dim memories of her previous life, but she was only a child when the outbreak happened, so there wasn’t much of that. Usually, she'd wonder about how everything looked back then. When she was younger, she’d go into random rooms and try to imagine herself as a person from the days long gone.

Of course, it wasn't all daydreaming. Scavenging was a requirement of survival -- dig through stuff and find something useful.

There was nothing of that in the kitchen though. The drawers had some rusty spoons and forks. If there were knives, Joel must have taken them. She found some jars with dry foods, but considering how long they had to stand there, she doubted they’d still be good.

Disappointed, she ventured into the living room. It was weird. Space felt Joel's, despite the fact that the cabin wasn't really his. And even though there weren’t any personal items in there, she felt bad about snooping around.

She decided to go upstairs. She'd wondered why Joel was sleeping in the living room anyway and the question was answered when she opened the first door.

Two clickers lied on the floor, their heads blown out. Well, she wouldn’t like to sleep in a bedroom with two dead bodies either. She took a measured step inside though, just to check the wardrobe. There were some pieces of clothing, but nothing suitable for the weather.

She opened the next door -- a bathroom, but with its cabinet emptied out. The next and the final room seemed like a kid’s room. Belonging to a little girl, judging by the pink bedding.

Jane sat down on the bed, which seemed comfortable, even after years of withering away. She wondered why Joel wouldn’t want to sleep there.

Sure, all of it was a bit sad, but hey, it was a room with a _good_ bed. Then she looked at the bed stand; a cracked lamp and a picture frame lying face down. She reached for it slowly, as if unsure if she should touch something quite so private. The picture was of a man and a little girl. The man was holding a rifle with a huge grin on his face and the kid was replicating the father’s smile only with a tooth missing.

Jane smiled. There weren’t many families around anymore and people weren’t exactly in the right place to create new ones. Of course, pregnancies happened, but they were _mistakes_. Who would want to bring a child into such a world? 

She understood why Joel picked the living room. Maybe he had a family before. Maybe he even had children. She thought of her own father and suddenly the room felt too tight.


	3. Chapter 3

Joel came back a few hours later, a massive hare in his hands. He seemed to be in a better mood too. 

“Want me to help with that?” She asked, hoping that they'd lose the awkwardness between them. 

“You know how to skin the animals?” 

Jane stepped from foot to foot.

“Not exactly but it would be a useful skill to learn?”

He removed his backpack and jacket, a sudden frown on his face.

“I don’t have time for this.”

It was back to the grumpy Joel then. She knew better now than to acknowledge his moodiness, so she just shrugged before turning on her heel and walking outside. She _really_ needed fresh air. 

For a few minutes, she was alone, walking around the clearing and observing the tree line. Thinking of what'd happen once her leg healed. 

“How’s the cut?” He asked as if he was inside her head. She didn't even hear him approaching. 

“It’s all right.”

It wasn't really, but she didn't want to whine.

“I’m gonna have to look at that later," he said and kneeled down, hare in one hand, the knife in the other. He was looking at her, brows furrowing. "If you really want to learn then come here and look." 

~

After they finished, he made a bonfire. Jane felt weirdly proud to have skinned the animal herself. Once upon a time, she'd find it nauseating -- a punishment for not doing what was asked of her. Now it meant another useful skill under her belt.

Her stomach rumbled as Joel started to cook the meat.

“Those trappers from yesterday,” he said out of a sudden, “they started crossing the river. Must be for hunting. Don’t leave the cabin.”

She nodded her head. She knew that it was to save him trouble and not out of care for her, but she appreciated it nevertheless.

“I won’t. But I," she took a deep breath, "need to find some clothes. My trousers are destroyed and that old jacket is useful for shit when the snow falls.”

Joel handed her a piece of meat, his eyes focused on her face. She returned the gaze, trying to read him, but there was nothing under the mask that would suggest what he was thinking.

“There's an abandoned camp a few miles south," he said eventually. “We won’t go until your leg's healed a bit.”

Well, it was better than nothing. 

~

As the dawn fall, they made it back into the cabin. While he was safe-proofing the door, she removed her trousers and plopped on the couch. The sooner it was done, the better. 

He came in and kneeled by her side as if it was the most normal thing to do. Their eyes met for a second and this time she could feel something brewing underneath his gaze. She looked away. He started moving his fingers around the wound, checking if the seam held.

“Looks good,” he said while applying alcohol to the cloth.

He put it on the wound and she hissed, her leg jerking away automatically. He shook his head before wrapping his hand around her calf to hold her in place. She didn’t know if she was _that_ starved for human attention, but it made her skin all tingly, and as soon as it happened, she felt stupid. 

She whispered a quick _thank god _when he was done and proceeded with dressing up. Joel sat in the armchair, his face unreadable. 

“What do you do?” She asked to kill her feeling of inadequacy and regretted it quickly. What a stupid question.

Joel’s expression seemed to agree. “What do ya think?”

“I don’t know. Are you just… Surviving?” She pressed on anyway. 

He was quiet for a few seconds.

“I’m smuggling,” he uttered finally.

Jane knew a few smugglers, but they were usually much younger. And smuggling only made sense in the habitable zones.

“We are pretty far away from people now," she pointed out.

“Those who need me, know where to find me.”

Once again, his face was saying nothing, but his words had an edge to them, so she dropped the subject. She sat on the couch, ready to pretend Joel didn't exist when he spoke.

“What do you do?” His tone wasn’t exactly interested. It was more as if he _needed_ to know things about her. 

“Trying to get to Boston."

She was repeating herself, but that was all there was. It seemed though that her answer stirred something in him as he leaned forward, a question on his lips. 

“You’ve got anything to do with Fireflies?”

That was a sticky subject.

“Not personally.”

Not the _full_ truth.

“Family?”

Jane sat on that for a few seconds and finally nodded her head. She figured he respected honesty and she really didn't need for him to distrust her even more. 

“My father. I haven’t seen him in… Quite some time.”

Joel leaned back into the armchair. He wasn't quite looking at her, but she could feel that he was fighting with himself whether to say something or not. 

“My brother used to run with the Fireflies," he muttered finally. As she was opening his mouth to speak, he continued. “Boston is probably the best place you can be these days."

A change of subject then. She could respect that. Little steps.

“Yeah well, I don’t have too great memories of that city. That’s why I’m here now," she said. She didn’t have too great memories from “here” too, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I need to continue working," he decided to ignore her statement. "Especially on the windows," he gave her a side-eye.

She moved in her seat uncomfortably.

“Didn’t seem to me like anyone lived here.”

Joel sighed.

“That’s the point. There are planks and tools in the cellar. The people who lived here never finished their job, but they had the right idea.”

“I can help.”

He didn't confirm whether he wanted that. “Get a good night’s rest,” he said instead as he stood up from the armchair.

“You too,” she answered quietly but remained seated in the same spot long after he got into his sleeping bag and turned his back to her.

~

He _did_ want her help. She only learned when he woke her up with a loud command to keep moving. As they descended into the cellar, the source of Joel’s moonshine became very clear with a cabinet full of similar-looking bottles.

“Seems like you were able to get properly drunk,” she mused as she looked at the golden-brown liquid.

To her surprise, Joel smiled. Not full-on, but it was still a smile.

“Drinking alone is not exactly a good thing," he said as his eyes shifted from the bottles to her face.

"You’re right, but now you have some company," she said and his smile disappeared.

“Let’s get to work.”

For the next few hours, Joel was cutting planks and carrying them upstairs, while Jane was doing her best to cover the windows. Of course, everything was carried out in total silence. At one point, she started humming -- it was an old-world song as her father used to call it.

Indeed, she faintly remembered it being played in her house back before the outbreak, but she was too little to recall the actual lyrics. All she got was the melody that he used to whistle or hum over and over. 

“How do you know that?” Joel asked while coming upstairs with a bunch of planks. She told him the story and he hummed a few words. “I used to be able to play that song on the guitar.” He looked deep in his thoughts for a second. “Those are hard to find now.”

“I would love to listen sometime," she said and offered him a small smile.

He ignored it.

"Let's keep going," he said while putting the planks down, "we can't do it at night."

With that, he turned on his heel and went back to the cellar. She had no choice but to get back to work.

~

Her thigh was hurting when she sat down after day’s work, but she didn't say anything. Still, like every other evening, Joel asked to see the wound and she obliged. His movements were quick and precise, skin cleaned and rebandaged in under five minutes. Jane thought that they'd spend some time together once he was done, but he only grunted a quick goodnight while picking up his tools, and then slid into his sleeping bag. 

It was strange. She'd bunked with many people and not once had she met someone so unwilling to communicate. Sure, she knew some quiet types, but those still would talk if the subject was right. Joel was different.

Jane knew she had no claim to his time or attention, but the way in which he shielded himself from other people told her that there was more to him than just being a loner. 

As she lied down to sleep, she started wondering about the past. She grew up in this world -- it was pretty much the only thing she knew -- but he could well remember how the world looked before. And maybe there was something there that made him so afraid to connect. 

The next few days were filled with work. Joel downstairs, Jane upstairs and entertained only by her own musings. She didn't even know how bored she was until she learned that her thigh was better and they could finally scout the nearby camp.

She felt way too excited as for someone about to leave the relative society. So much so that for the first time since staying with Joel, she was up before him. He seemed surprised to find her dressed and ready when he woke up, but at least he didn't act grumpy.

“Take this,” he said while handing her a pistol. It was a surprise for sure, but a welcome one. Despite his behavior, he must've trusted her some -- you didn't arm someone unless you were sure they wouldn't shoot you in the back. “Fire only if you have to," he warned and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not a child Joel. I’ve made it this far without you.”

He mumbled something under his breath as she put the backpack on.

~

The air was crispy when they set out on their way and she breathed in with a huge smile on her face. Luckily, Joel couldn't see it, as he was trekking in front of her.

The forest was changing as they traveled. At first, it was plenty of clearings and ease of walking; with time the trees got thicker, and her legs started to hurt as she had to navigate them.

“I haven’t scouted this area in weeks. Look out for trappers," Joel said and fear settled in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't the type to dwell on her misadventures, but something about those two men from weeks earlier made it hard not to. She exhaled slowly and followed Joel step by step, as to not step on a twig and give away their position. 

The fear dissipated as they walked out of the woods and into the river shore. Jane quickly approached the water and scooped some in her hands. It was crystal clear and icy cold and every sip she took felt like heaven.

Joel leaned over the shore himself, washing his hands and face and then drinking some. “Not far away now,” he said and kept on walking.


	4. Chapter 4

The camp looked more promising than she'd expected -- a few campers, some cabins, and a lovely, if a little run-down, bonfire area. It'd be quite a place if not for all the bodies lying around.

“Did you kill them?” Jane asked as she walked over a clicker corpse.

Joel nodded his head while pushing one of the bodies out of his way. 

“Took me some time. I didn’t get a chance to scout the place properly after that," he said and looked around, "wanted to get back to the cabin before the night fell.”

“Color me impressed."

“A few must die, so others can live,” he said somberly as they started exploring the place. 

The cabins were a good source of supplies. Jane scavenged the first-aid kit and, to her great relief, a sweater and two pairs of trousers. They didn’t smell great, having lied in the place for God knows how long, but she wasn’t in the position to complain.

As she exited the last cabin, she saw Joel sitting on a log, turning something in his hands. “A swiss knife,” he said as he noticed her approaching. “Haven’t seen one like this in years.”

Well, he was happy to find a new weapon and Jane was glad to have warmer clothes. They could head back.

They started walking down the river, more relaxed now. As if a weight had been lifted off Joel’s arms. And while he was trekking with the energy he didn't seem to have normally, she stopped by the bank, her face reflecting in the crystal clear water. As she looked down, she became painfully aware of how dirty she was. She didn't remember when was the last time she cleaned herself with something different than a wet cloth.

"I want to get in," she said more to herself than to him. Joel didn’t stop walking.

“We have water in the cabin," his tone was not inviting discussion, but it didn't need to. She was already removing her clothes, cold air raising goosebumps on her skin. It was stupid, she knew that, but it seemed that nowadays she was mostly doing what Joel told her. It felt freeing to be out there and do what _she_ desired.

"You'll get sick and I ain't gonna waste aspirin on you," he uttered, clearly stopping himself from lashing out. 

“Then be it,” Jane replied with a small smile and dipped her foot in the water. Even though it was cold enough to send thousands of little needles through her skin, she embraced it. She started moving deeper with the air smacking her skin and making her shiver. She stopped before the water touched her underwear, reaching down to clean herself. 

Jane didn’t expect him to observe her, but he did. She could feel his gaze drilling into her back and it spiked her body with a weird mixture of fear and arousal. She didn't want to think about it too much, so she finished quickly, dragging herself back to the bank. Joel was standing there motionless.

“I’m almost finished,” she said as she started putting her clothes on. As soon as she zipped her jacket, he started walking. “Hey,” she shouted after him, “slow down.”

He didn’t listen, applying a pace so fast she had to jog to catch up with him. She was getting _really_ tired of his moods. 

“I’m talking to you Joel," she said harsher than intended when she finally reached him. 

“I don’t remember owin’ you an answer,” he answered flatly. For a second, she was considering talking back to him, but she decided not to waste her breath. They spent the rest of the way in tense silence.

“Make a fire. We haven’t eaten all day," Joel ordered as they got back into the cabin. 

"Stop bossing me around," she snapped back but started collecting the wood. Joel was skinning the rabbit, but his eyes were tracking her, admittedly slow, movements.

“It must be a miracle you survived so long on your own," he said with a bite as she picked the last of the wood. She threw it at his feet and started building a fire. When it started, she gave him her widest insincere smile.

~

“Can I go hunting with you?” She asked the next morning. Joel was sitting on the chair opposite to her, cleaning his rifle, and his relaxed postured suggested that all the tension from the past day had evaporated.

“You never wanted to go before," he said without lifting his eyes.

“I didn’t think you'd want company."

He gave her a wry smile.

“I still don’t want company.”

Jane focused on food in front of her. She wasn’t hungry anymore. 

“I’m stuck in here some more and I'll go crazy," she whined but didn't feel bad about it. The trip they took made her realize how suffocating being in that small cabin had been. 

“Can you even hunt?”

She leaned back into the chair with a grin, realizing that he's giving in.

“You haven’t seen me in action yet.”

He looked up from his gun, 

“If you can, then why do you only carry knives?”

The conversation was steering into uncomfortable territory. The _dangerous_ territory. 

“It’s all I had on me when I left," she said as nonchalantly as she could manage and Joel didn’t inquire further. He probably didn’t care anyway and for once she was glad. He clicked the rifle in place and handed it over to her.

“You’re lucky I have another one.”

~

The hunting ground was about a mile south and each step she took in that direction filled her with joy. She realized that she missed everything about it. The barely-there steps, holding in-breath, and complete focus on the forest around her. Joel had found deer footsteps and they were tracking the animal in absolute silence.

“You all right?" He asked out of nowhere. The question surprised her, but she just nodded her head. They continued walking, keeping their eyes fixed on the tracks. Suddenly, Joel tensed and walked in front of her, his body obstructing her view. 

"Hey," she started to argue, but he put a finger on his lips. That was when she heard a crunch of leaves. 

“Did you hear that?" Jane whispered excitedly and leaned into him.

He slowly nodded his head, eyes fixated on something in front of them. 

“Don’t mo…,” he started, but she steered to the right.

“Jane,” he said through clenched teeth. “There is someone in the…”

She didn’t hear him, fixated on hunting the animal down. The trek must have been a few minutes, but she was hyper-focused to the point that she felt as if she materialized right in front of their deer. She squatted in the clearing, the animal perfectly in her view.

“Here we go,” she whispered to herself, aiming the gun.

She was about to pull the trigger when she heard an unmistakable sound of the infected. Her body froze and then blood seemed to erupt in her veins as she realized that Joel was completely alone out there. She let out a muffled_ fuck _before running to where they parted ways, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Blood was pumping in her ears as she started to look for him. No tracks and no sign of where he could go. Under different circumstances, she'd try to shout, but you didn't shout around the infected unless you were a suicidal maniac. As panic started rising in her throat, she heard a single gunshot.

_A_ _sign_.

Jane exhaled a ragged breath and reloaded her gun with shaky hands. And then, she ran where the noise guided her. It didn't take long to spot Joel taking quick steps back as three runners tried to reach him. He noticed her from the corner of his eye and started to frantically point his head in the direction from which she came from. 

For a moment, the world stopped. If she turned back as he suggested, she'd live. It probably wouldn't be a particularly good life, but it'd still be _life_. And she should have done it -- she should have turned on her heel and run, but she couldn't move. He saved her from demise once before, even if he hadn't intended that, and he nursed her back to health. She owed him one and it seemed that owning one was the closest people got to morals in the post-apocalypse.

So, Jane did the stupidest, but the most effective thing she could've done.

She shouted. 

The infected turned around, their bloodshot eyes focusing on her and she knew that was it. She quickly lifted her gun, guided only by instinct, and shot perfectly through one of the heads. If she wasn't about to die, she'd be in awe of her lucky strike. 

Instead, she fired another shot just as Joel did. This time she didn't quite get it right.

As Joel's infected fell to the ground, another one howled after having his arm blown off. Before she could do anything else, Joel yanked him back, the knife going right through his temple. The body fell to the ground with a loud thud and Joel was closing the distance between them in a rage. 

“Do y'have a fuckin' death wish,” his accent was so thick now she could barely make out words.

Jane opened her mouth to answer when he pushed her forward. “Run,” he said and she did. She was running till' she saw the cabin and she didn’t stop till' she made it through the door. Joel was right behind her.

The adrenaline was rushing through her veins as she put the gun down on the counter.

“That was close,” she said to him to relieve tension and was instantly pushed into the wall. Joel was holding the laps of her jacket, breathing loudly through his nose. “Hey,” she protested, putting hands on his chest and trying to push him away, but he wouldn't budge. 

“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” He was hardly containing his anger. “Shoutin’ to get their attention? What about trappers, huh? We want their attention too?”

“I tried to save your life," she hissed, trying to free herself from his grip. She couldn't believe he was scolding her for that.

“I can handle myself just fine. You don’t need to play the hero."

“I was playing the hero?” She shouted, hitting him on the chest. He caught her wrists and pulled her closer.

"Stop that," he said in a low, dangerous voice. 

And as she looked at him, her body seemed to act faster than her mind. She pressed her lips into his, the hotness of his breath making her shiver. Joel reacted instantly. His hands shifted roughly from her wrists to her waist, as his tongue slid into her mouth. Jane knew it was just winding down adrenaline -- an emotional reaction that had nothing to do with either one of them, but she basked in the feeling anyway.

She pulled hard on his hair, receiving a low grunt as his hands traveled lower, squeezing her ass and making her hips push forward involuntarily.

“Oh god,” she whispered as he lifted her higher.

Her thighs wrapped around him and she bit his lip, the desire spreading down from her stomach. He licked her neck, beard irritating the delicate skin and she moaned, hips jerking into his. He was rock hard. She slid her hands to her arms and ground into him, looking for the friction she desperately needed.

“No,” Joel said with a raspy voice, taking a step back. "No," he repeated as he grabbed her hands and put them down, untangling himself from around her legs. “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath and turned on his heel, disappearing through the door. 

~

It’d been hours since he left and she didn’t know what to do with herself. Now that everything has winded down, all of it seemed wrong. Stupid. _Embarrassing_. You didn't try to fuck around with someone that you bunked with no matter the circumstances.

If it was hard to live with Joel before, the thought of facing him after that was almost unbearable. Jane had to decide what to do because she knew he wouldn’t stand being in one cabin with her after what transpired. 

And she was right. When Joel returned, he couldn't even look at her. She dreaded talking to him, but it had to be done. She had no time to beat around the bush. 

“Hey,” she said quietly as he nested in the dark corner of the kitchen, cleaning his gun. “I’m sorry”. He didn’t as much as flinch. “I don’t know why I did that. Must have been adrenaline, but I can promise you, it doesn’t mean _anything_.”

He suddenly put his gun down and looked her straight in the eye.

“You’re right," he said. "It doesn’t. You ain’t anyone to me and I ain’t anyone to you," he got back to cleaning his gun. "Your leg is healed. You can leave tomorrow.”

Jane knew she should have expected this kind of reaction from him, but actually hearing it made the nausea bile up in her throat. She swallowed it and nodded her head. That was it then. She'd leave with sunrise. She had three weeks to make it to Boston. Otherwise, she would be dead.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per tags -- graphic depictions of violence in this one.

Jane was patrolling the street with an icy wind blowing in her face. God, she _really_ hated it here.

The Fireflies were observing her quietly as she cocked the gun and huffed. Of course they didn’t trust her. Why would they? She was a pariah -- an insane person who decided to leave the safety of the compound and go out into the wild.

That was a whole other story though.

~

When she arrived in Boston three weeks earlier, she was barely holding it together. The trip took longer than expected due to a heavy snowstorm that kept her barricaded in some old house for nearly four days. When she finally left, she was stripped of food and sanity, wandering from door to door to find something to eat. And dealing with the infected. Over and over and over again. 

She made it into the compound with a serious cold and a quiet hope that her father wouldn't make a scene, but she was never that lucky.

“I told you that you’d be back, didn’t I?" He said as soon as he saw her. He seemed happy to have her back, but she knew it was all for show. A prodigal daughter coming back to her daddy after things got rough.

He talked loudly as they walked into his apartment. “You’re sick? You clearly don’t take after me,” he laughed, but when the door closed, he seized her from head to toes and shook his head. “I told you. Everyone gets back."

Jane threw her backpack on the floor and sat on the couch. All of this would be a relief if not for his constant yanking. 

“Spare me," she said and looked out the window, the snow hitting on the glass. He was laughing quietly as he shuffled to the kitchen and started the kettle on.

“Anyway, it's good to have you back.”

She sighed and removed her shoes.

“You too," she said but didn't mean it. He poured her a cup of tea and put it on the table. As he was sitting down, she knew what he was going to say.

“A doctor needs to see you. Then we will talk to the other commanders.”

There it was. He wasn’t just any Firefly. He was the Firefly command, and he had a daughter that left it all behind just to return shamefully the second things got tough. God, how she hated herself.

She quietly took a sip, bracing for the upcoming questioning. 

~

She was taken out of her thoughts when someone patted her on the arm.

“Your duty is done,” a young, tough-looking woman was staring at her.

“Oh, all..." Jane started saying but the woman waved her hand dismissively.

“He wants to see you. Building B.”

Jane nodded her head and handed over the gun. 

The building was bustling with people and she’d love it, if not for the fact that it wasn’t her people, and it wasn’t her place. She was stumbling from room to room, trying to keep her head down when she found her father. He was talking with a woman that Jane had never seen before.

“We can’t risk bringing our usual people in. It’s got to be her." His voice was full of energetic optimism and Jane knew that she just walked on him selling his agenda. 

“I know that she’s your daughter, but she only came back two weeks ago. We can’t trust her with this. For god’s sake, she doesn’t even see herself as the Fire…”

Jane coughed to let her presence be known and the woman stopped abruptly. Well, that was that. She knew that she'd always be involved in his plans, yet it never stopped being any less depressing. 

“Jane,” he exclaimed with exaggerated joy and pulled her into his arms.

She awkwardly patted him on the back. The woman was eyeing her from head to toes as if trying to figure something out.

“We were just talking about you…”

“She knows that,” the woman interrupted. “Mariah,” she extended her hand and Jane shook it quickly before pulling away.

“Mariah is from the Salt Lake City command. She arrived not long before you returned," her father said with a kind smile on his face. God, how did he not hate himself? 

“Cut to the chase, Bill,” Mariah shook her head in disapproval.

Jane’s father took a graceful step forward.

“Well," he cleared his throat, "I called you here because we need someone to smuggle a package into the quarantine zone.”

Her heart stopped. She expected that they'd send her somewhere, but smuggling? She was willing to do patrols or, she didn't know, go out and scavenge, but getting into the quarantine zone was insane.

“Mariah doesn’t think we can trust you with this, but I know we can. You can handle yourself," he continued as if he didn't see the blood draining from her face. 

“I’m not a smuggler,” Joel popped in her mind as soon as she said that. She cursed internally. 

“I told you, we can’t count on her," Mariah didn't seem surprised. 

Her father’s lips thinned into a line. He put a hand on Jane's arm and squeezed it tightly enough for her to understand.

“You’re not, but as I said, you _can_ handle yourself. You’ve done deliveries for us before. I _really_ need you to do this.”

Jane shook her head in disbelief. She wished that her father and her saw eye to eye, but they didn’t. He was utterly devoted to the idea of finding the cure and at one point in time, she believed in the cause too. Then things happened and she realized how twisted Fireflies could get. How ruthless and demanding. That was one of the reasons she left. 

But now she was back to the square one, with the father believing that there was a price for his protection. It was either doing what he asked, or having to leave again, and she wasn’t sure what would happen if she did.

“I can try," she said finally.

Bill patted her on the arms with a grin on his face.

“I know you can,” he turned in Mariah’s direction. “I told you she would.”

Mariah eyed her for a few seconds before speaking.

“I don’t like this, but we have no other choice. Our smugglers were compromised, and other people here got too comfortable to deal with the threats outside the walls.” 

"Can't imagine why," Jane said and her father's expression soured. She smiled. 

~

The only good thing about staying in the Firefly compound was the accommodations.

Jane was faring well in the outside world, but nothing could beat a bed in a safe location. The base even had running water, although it was heavily limited -- five minutes a day per head, of which she was painfully reminded as the shower cut off the second her muscles started to relax.

She cursed under her breath and stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel. 

“Are you there? We need to talk," her father's voice was coming from outside the door. She closed her eyes and exhaled loudly before speaking.

"Do we need to talk right right _now_?"

He was quiet for a second, but she could feel the tension rising. 

"I'd prefer it was now, yes." She opened the door and stepped out. Bill was standing by the wall with hands clasped in front of him. “I hope you understand how important this is for all of us," he started. "We are slowly losing the fight. We need that leverage.”

Jane didn't like the sound of that. She _really_ didn't like the sound of that.

“Leverage? What’s in that package?”

Bill looked at her with an apologetic smile. _Oh god. _They were doing this again and she was caught right in the middle.

“You know what’s in there," he said.

Jane started laughing. It was a deep, sardonic laugh that echoed through the corridor. 

“Are you insane?" She asked while waving her hands. "I can smuggle in documents, or drugs, or even guns, but components for a bomb? No, I’m not doing it.” 

The thought was still absurd in her head and she couldn't help, but shake her head and laugh again. She must have sounded crazy. 

“Our contact is close to people in charge. She will make sure that no civilians get hurt," her father said while trying to put his hand on her arm. The second his fingers touched her skin, it all felt too real and she snapped.

“How can you be sure of that,” she shouted while taking a step back. “It’s insane, can’t you see that? You and this fucking Firefly movement, thinking you’re helping people when you’re really just..."

Bill’s face twisted in anger.

“The Fireflies kept us alive all those years," he shouted over her, "remember where your loyalties lie. It’s all you have in this world.”

“I left because of those _loyalties_,” she spat while turning on her heel. He was still shouting as she was walking into her room.

“And you came back as soon as things got tough. You couldn’t stomach it out there. Without purpose. Without people to rely on.” His words hurt and her anger started to mix with sadness. “You are in this for life and you know it. You _will_ deliver the package."

She slammed the door as tears started welling in her eyes. 

~

Jane started her trek as soon as the sun raised. No matter what had transpired the day before, her survival was on stake and that's how she could justify it to herself. That's how everyone justified everything nowadays. It made her sick to her stomach knowing that she was no different. 

As she walked the ice-covered streets, she could feel fear tugging at her stomach. The infected weren't the problem -- she'd take them out without a second thought. It was the trappers that made her blood ran cold. Clickers would kill you in seconds. People would take pleasure in torturing you before you died. 

Jane tried to not think of that as she walked through the abandoned buildings. She could hear faint voices of people hauled up on the other side of the street as she slid in and out the doors. But as she started crossing the street, determined to slid into a yet another empty bloc, someone wrapped a hand around her hair.

She gasped in surprise, fear making her freeze in place. 

“Well, well,” a male voice said. Jane could feel the knife on the back of her neck. “Where are we going?”

This was why she preferred to live in the goddamned wilderness.

She started to sweat, her hand closing on the knife that was almost slipping from her hand. The man let go of her hair and instead grabbed her arm, yanking her to face him. He was high on something, his blood-shot eyes scrutinizing her. “We are going to have some fun, aren’t we?” 

He leaned closer and she knew it was now or never. She kicked him in the knee with all the force she could muster, and it crunched as the man fell to the ground. He didn’t let go of her arm though, so she slid down with him.

“You stupid bitch,” he gasped, but before he could do anything, she stabbed him into the side of his neck.

It was a reflex. Something she didn't think through as hot blood sprayed on her face and jacket, making her gag.

He let go of her and closed his hands around his neck in a futile attempt to tame the bleeding. She watched him, unable to move. He was gasping for air, his complexion becoming paler by the second, blood seeping through his fingers and staining the snow. He extended one of his hands as if trying to reach her, but instead his face twisted in a silent plea as he fell to the ground.

That was another reason why she preferred to deal with the infected. Killing them was easy. They were gone anyway -- kept “alive” only by the fungus controlling their brains.

This was different. The man in front of her had every intention to harm her, yet he was still a living, breathing person and his death made her sick to her stomach.

She finally shook herself from the state of shock and quickly crawled into the building.

Jane knew that she should be moving further, but she couldn’t. She lied down on the dirty, dusty floor, with heart beating loudly in her chest. She raised her hands into the air and saw the blood covering them. She rolled on the side and vomited violently.

She'd killed before, but it was always a terrifying, gut-wrenching experience. She didn’t know whether it was a good or a bad thing. Was it the last element of humanity that she maintained in this sick world? Or was it a foolish instinct that would finally get her killed? 

She slowly raised from the floor, her head spinning from the dying adrenaline rush. She reached for the water bottle and took a few sips to clean her mouth. Then she poured some on her hands to clean them from the blood.

Finally, she stood up, bracing herself for the rest of the trip. It was shaping to be even worse than she had expected.


	6. Chapter 6

Jane was nearing the quarantine zone and the closer she got, the shakier she became. It was years since her last smuggling job and even then it was a two-person affair. It didn’t matter now anyway. She was out there and there was no turning back.

As she walked through empty streets, she started remembering everything she’d heard about the government running the zones. They were ruthless and efficient -- shot in the back of the head as the solution for _all _problems. According to the Fireflies, the only thing worse was the infected, but Jane could almost taste the irony in the mindset of people who bombed civilian compounds to make a point.

She looked at the crumpled map in her hand. If she remembered correctly, the off-record entrance to the zone would be hidden in one of the building walls. Wisteria lanes and planks, she had in the back of her mind, but the weather made it so there were only planks. She slowly pulled them down and slid inside.

She was close now. It wouldn’t be the hardest passage, especially considering her earlier incident, but it would still be a hell of a trip. The ruins were crawling with the infected.

Jane sat on a ruined couch and pulled the package from her backpack. She sure was glad they didn’t send her off with a ticking bomb, but then again, she wouldn’t put it past them. She scrutinized the box, turning it sideways. God, it was _heavy_. She put it back into the backpack and stood up.

_Tick-tock._

_~_

The further in the building, the darker it got, and she was now crouching on the floor, trying to make as little noise as possible. She could hear the infected shuffling and stomping, waiting for their next victim to stumble into the hallway. There was no other way than to take them down one by one.

Jane started moving close to the wall. It was a safety measure -– a way to not get grabbed from behind. She was marking her steps, trying to not make the floor crack. She could see an infected in front of her, his limb’s twitching aimlessly.

She squeezed onto her knife and jolted forward, stabbing him in the temple. He didn’t even have time to make the noise as his body fell heavily into her arms and she put it on the floor as quietly as she could. She stomped on his face just to be safe and then she crouched again.

There were two more in her way and she had to play it smart. She stayed hugged to the wall for a better moment and only approached the infected when the other one ventured into the room. Stab in the temple and stomp on the face like the first time, and as far as she knew, there was only one left.

He was standing in the middle of the room and she was almost crawling on the floor to not make a noise, but all it took was one wrong step. One wrong step and the infected turned around with an insane look on their face.

He started running in her direction just as she was scrambling herself off the floor. His body hit hers and she fell back with a thud, his teeth snapping where her neck had been mere seconds earlier.

He was clawing on the arms of her jacket like crazy and she started to panic, sweat rolling down her temple as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn’t move her arms, but one of her legs was free, so she lifted it and, with all her strength, wedged it between them. It worked and she pushed hard, the infected rolling off her with a hiss.

Jane turned around and stabbed him in the face before he could get back on top. Then once again for a good measure. She stood up with shaky legs and tapped the dust off her clothes. At that point, she couldn’t fucking wait to be in the quarantine zone.

The relief came a moment too soon as someone caught her from behind. Normally she would try to get free and jolt, but she was still on the adrenaline rush, so she kicked back with all the force she could muster and the infected stumbled back.

Before she could turn around, he forcefully grabbed her by the arms and threw her on the floor. She fell down, her head hitting the ground and the world going blurry for a second. She groaned in pain and then it hit her. An infected wouldn’t do that. It was too intentional.

“Jane?” The voice came to her and she opened her eyes.

Joel was towering over her and for a second she thought that she hallucinated him. As he crouched next to her to look at her head, she realized that he was real. And then the anger came.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” she shouted as she tried to get off the floor. “Do you just put strangers on the floor? Is that what you do for fun?”

He scowled while standing up.

“Do you have any idea where you are? Smugglers come and go and anyone unwanted is a problem.”

Jane was back on her legs, dusting herself off. Her head hurt and it was making it _really_ difficult to calm down. She huffed and walked past him. She didn’t have time for this, even if seeing him excited her in a way she wouldn't have expected.

He grabbed her hand and she stopped in her tracks. She looked at where he was holding her, and she yanked her hand. He didn’t budge.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

She looked at his face. He seemed tense.

“Why do you think it’s any of your business?”

“Quit acting like a child.”

Jane huffed again, but she figured they didn’t need to fight. The situation was fucked enough as it was.

“I have something to bring in,” she said finally.

He let go off her hand and the now empty spot tingled.

“Fireflies,” he stated flatly.

She looked him in the eyes, knowing that he was about to go off again.

“Things happen.”

He shook his head, his lips thinning into a line.

“You’re damn stupid if you’re smuggling things in for that bunch of…”

“You don’t have to tell me that.” They stood in silence for a few seconds, seizing each other up. She was tired of it. She was tired of it all. “I need to go,” she said and started walking. He followed her.

~

It was uncomfortable to be in his presence. She thought she’d never see him again and decided it was easier like that. To run into Joel now was like destiny laughing in her face.

“Why are you here?” She asked, unable to deal with the silence.

“A job.”

Jane guessed he didn’t want to go into details, but she pressed anyway.

“Must be a pretty important job to leave your base in this kind of weather.”

He didn’t say anything.

They were walking down the stairs and into a wide corridor now. A few more meters and they’d be in the quarantine zone, which was giving her hope that he’d leave to do his business. But he didn’t. He stuck by her side as they blended with other people.

“You know that you can go away now?”

Joel huffed and glanced at her.

“I will when we get to the marketplace.”

Jane decided to keep quiet for the rest of the trip. It was easier to focus on the bustling crowds than to wonder whether it meant _something_ that they ran into each other again. The zone was filling her with warm feelings. Sure, it was slowly becoming ruins, as everything around them, but people seemed to go about their lives as if nothing ever happened. As if the infection was only outside their walls. In a way, they were right.

“What are you carrying?” Joel asked out of a sudden and she raised her eyebrow in surprise.

“Didn’t you ask that earlier?”

His gaze was icy cold, but she didn’t care. She could imagine the scolding she’d get from him. Or maybe she wouldn’t. She didn’t know him that well to know his opinions on bombings. Either way, she didn’t owe him an answer. Not anymore.

Getting into the marketplace interrupted her thoughts. It was full of vendors selling different stuff, some of which she hadn’t seen in ages. Joel was walking close by, looking intimidating, and she figured he knew people in the place and was sending a message not to blabber.

“I’ve gotta go,” she said as they reached an end of one alley, with three more extending into various directions. Her contact would be at an assigned location soon and taking Joel with her was the last thing she wanted. Not that he seemed interested in that. He nodded his head and disappeared into the crowd without a goodbye.

~

Jane was surprised to see that her contact was a small, unassuming woman who barely met her gaze. She quietly handed over the package and the Firefly walked away as if nothing happened. It felt weird. Jane knew what she was doing since the beginning, but as the bomb components left her backpack, the weight of the situation overwhelmed her. She just aided the terrorists. She _was_ a terrorist. But she couldn’t dwell on that if she wanted to get back to the base without breaking down.

The clock showed that she had about three hours until the nightfall. If she hurried, she wouldn’t have to spend the night outside the walls. She took off, walking through dark corners and tight streets, that made her heartbeat fasten. In a way, she enjoyed it. It was better to fear regular things than trappers or the army. And she was sure she’d have no problem dealing with the shady types here.

She regretted her naivete when someone grabbed her by the arm. Before she had time to react, that same someone pushed her into the wall with a thud.

_Joel_.

“A fucking bomb,” he said as his face twisted in anger and disbelief.

She was dumbfounded. There was no way he would’ve figured out what she was carrying from the conversations they had before.

“Do you know her?” She asked in relation to her contact without realizing that if he was playing a con game here, she just gave everything away.

“Yes, I _do_ know her and you're a stupid girl to do what you just did.”

Jane had enough of that. She kneed him in the groin, and he let go of her, stumbling back and cursing.

“Don’t call me stupid,” she hissed, “and stop grabbing me like this.” It was the first time she acted so aggressively towards him, but he had it coming. He had it coming for a long time now and she was no longer bound by being his guest.

She dusted her jacket off as Joel stood there looking utterly lost for a few seconds. “What’s your problem, Joel?” She couldn’t stop the words pouring out of her mouth. “We run into each other randomly and you just decide to follow and school me on things? You’re the one who kicked me out, so stop acting like you have some higher ground here.” The last words almost got stuck in her throat, but she pushed them out. It felt cathartic to let go of the bottled up feelings.

He watched her in silence, a frown crossing his features. “Oh, right.” She couldn’t stop herself from one more dig. “Suddenly you have nothing to say.” She looked at him with distaste and turned the corner. There was something seriously wrong with him and she didn’t know if she was equipped to deal with that.

“Jane,” he called out, but she didn’t stop walking. “I’m not good with people,” he grunted finally.

She shook her head.

“I couldn’t tell.”

He was now walking by her side, eyebrows furrowed.

“Just stop for a second will ya?” Jane decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. One last time. She stopped and looked at him. “I’ve lost… someone during the initial outbreak,” his words were a whisper. “I stuck with my brother for a while, but we had different ideas of survival and I just couldn’t do that anymore.”

He huffed and took a step back, looking to the side. It was the first time Joel told her anything about his life before the infection and it clearly required a lot of emotional labor. He couldn’t even look at her. “If you keep with people, they start growing on you. That’s why I’ve been alone for years. You were the first person that stuck around and made me realize that I didn’t know how to deal with this feeling anymore. I didn’t know if I _could_ deal with that.”

And just like that, everything clicked into place for her. He wasn’t just _that kind of person_. He was traumatized by something far greater than she could ever imagine and it made her feel sympathetic. God knew they all needed a little sympathy in those times.

“It’s all right,” she said. “Thank you for telling me.” He avoided her gaze, clearly uncomfortable with her words. It was so Joel of him that she couldn’t help but smile. Without a warning, they slid back into the weird but trusted routine of relying on each other.

“What are you going to do now?” She asked to release the tension he’d clearly been holding. Joel was quiet for a second.

“Head back.”

“That’s weeks of walking,” she was in shock over how casually it sounded in his mouth. “We’re in the middle of winter”.

Joel looked at her as if she was completely oblivious to something he knew perfectly well.

“I walked here. I can walk back.”

“Come to the base with me,” she blurted quickly. She didn’t know why. Maybe his revelation changed something about their situation. Or maybe she didn’t want him to leave quite as much as she let herself believe.

He raised an eyebrow and then laughed quietly. He did it so rarely that she was both enchanted and offended by his reaction.

“Sorry kid, but Fireflies are the last crowd I’d like to run with”.

She sighed.

“You don’t have to run _with_ them. It’s just a compound run by them.”

Joel looked at her for a minute without saying a thing.

“We won’t make it there today anyway,” he said finally. “I have a safe-house about a mile from here. We can stay there for the night.” _It’d be just like the old times then_, she thought and smiled before agreeing.


	7. Chapter 7

Jane liked the place. It was surprisingly well-kept, especially considering that everything outside the quarantine zone was a no man’s land. She moved her fingers across the books on the shelf, wondering why Joel wouldn’t claim them. They were a rarity these days.

“Anything interesting?” His voice came from behind her and she instinctively dropped her hand. “You can take what you want. I ain’t using them.”

“Why not?” She couldn't stop herself from asking.

“There are more important things,” he answered dryly, but then approached her and pointed to one of the books. “I liked this one when I was ‘bout your age though,” he took it off the shelf and handed it to her. Jane turned the book in her hands unsure of what to do. “You’re heading to the compound anyway. One book won’t slow you down.”

So, he didn’t plan on going with her, she thought before reluctantly putting the book in her backpack. The thought made her weirdly sad, but she decided it wasn't the time to mope.

Joel sat on the couch, knife in on hand, canned food in the other.

“You want some?” he asked.

Jane shook her head.

“I have my own.”

She rested next to him and uncanned her meal. They ate in silence. Well, relative silence as Jane’s thoughts were racing so fast, she could barely keep up.

That day was hard on her -- probably harder than weeks of her travels combined -- and then she stumbled upon Joel. She didn’t know whether it meant something, or if the world’s gotten smaller since the outbreak happened. She didn’t even know if she wanted to figure it all out.

Jane stood up, unwilling to engage with her frantic thoughts any longer, and walked to the window. It was dark already and she could feel the cold air grazing her skin through cracks in the old frame. She pondered on how the world was before. All she could see now was the crumbling buildings and the snow glistening under the moonlight.

“There’s a bed in the next room, but I can’t vouch for its condition,” Joel spoke suddenly, and she felt his gaze on her back. “Or you can sleep on the couch and I’ll take the floor."

For whatever reason, she found his offer ridiculous.

“It’s your place. You can sleep on the couch,” she said without turning around.

“Don’t annoy me,” he answered coldly and she sighed quietly before speaking.

“Whatever you wish.”

She stood by the window for a few more minutes before walking back to the couch. And as soon as she sat down, she realized that she had no sleeping bag on her. It was a rookie mistake really -– the one that reminded her of how Joel thought it was a miracle she’d survived for so long.

Jane battled with herself for a few seconds. In all fairness, the place wasn’t that cold and she could stomach one night without the bag. Then again, she could only imagine her father’s mood if she got back with yet another cold.

It made her feel inadequate, but she had to tell Joel -- if only to save herself from a whole other type of argument later.

“Hey,” she started quietly, “I don’t have a sleeping bag.”

He stopped fixing his sleeping arrangements and remained quiet for a few seconds. Then he turned around in her direction, his expression a mix of anger and awe.

“Who leaves their base without a sleeping bag?”

“I thought I’d be back by sunset. I didn’t really…”

“Yeah, you didn’t really think it through,” he stopped her mid-sentence. “It doesn’t surprise me anymore.” He unzipped his bag and slid inside with a frown on his face. “But y’know what? Luckily, it ain’t my business."

He wasn’t wrong. She didn’t even know what she expected from him, so instead of arguing, she turned around quietly and closed her eyes. Minutes passed in total silence and she wished she could fall asleep, but the air was colder now that she wasn’t moving and she had to stop herself from trembling.

Suddenly, his firm voice came from the floor. “Come here.”

“I’m good,” Jane whispered back without turning around.

It wasn’t that she was playing games with him -- she just couldn't imagine getting inside with Joel after their conversation. He grunted before unzipping the bag.

“You don’t want to make me mad,” his tone was harsher now and her stomach tightened.

Jane considered the alternative of refusing him again and slowly lifted herself off the couch. She hesitated for a second as she looked at him waiting. It seemed too intimate, even when considering what had transpired between them weeks earlier.

“Get in. Now,” he said and she forced herself to keep moving.

She slid in quietly and zipped the bag. For a second, she thought she’d feel awkward, but the closeness of his body – the warmth of him – made it so she relaxed instinctively, her anxious thoughts gone.

Joel didn’t seem to share her sentiment as he sighed before turning completely still. For a second, she wondered whether it was because he really didn’t want her there, or because he did, but their relationship was strained enough as it was. She didn’t wait to find out, putting as much distance between them as she could and then turning to her side.

In that moment, the anxiety came back, the tension between the two of them growing. Jane exhaled quietly, willing herself to sleep -– shutting her eyes closed and thinking of unrelated things -- but it was fruitless as she heard him shuffle around. Her eyes snapped open as she sensed him getting closer; close enough for her back to touch his chest. That was when she felt it.

Joel was playing with her hair, slowly moving his fingers up to her cheek. And then he grazed her skin, the touch sending a jolt of electricity down her body. Jane could feel her skin blush and she wished she could stop him. Not because she didn’t want him to touch her, but because she didn’t want him to know just how intensely he made her feel.

He didn’t stop though, his thumb caressing her cheek. It struck her then that none of this was sexual, no matter what her body wanted it to be. It was too soft. Too intimate. A kind of touch that you offered when you wanted to convey something without words -– a certain kind of closeness that closeted people like him sought.

Joel was apologizing to her, she felt like, and it made her heart flutter. And as soon as she started to enjoy the awareness of what was happening, his touch was gone.

He turned around without a word, leaving enough space between their backs not to touch. _Little steps_, Jane told herself as she closed her eyes shut.

The clicking of her teeth awoke her. She opened her eyes, realizing that the bag was unzipped and Joel already up on his feet. She quickly wrapped herself in the warm fabric that he left behind.

“Get up,” he said emotionlessly. “We need to get going”.

Jane turned on her side.

“The sun has barely risen,” she mumbled.

Joel’s face turned sour. “We don’t have time for this,” he said and she had to give in. 

She scrambled herself up, but not without a few yawns and a few silent curses. He handed her an energy bar and she took it without an argument, eyes locking on his.

“Eat up,” he said and sat down to work on something in his backpack.

It was shaping up to be a long day. 

~

This time Jane felt a bit safer walking through town, and she had to admit that Joel’s presence factored into that. She was kind of embarrassed by the fact — the apocalypse had its own rights and it was not uncommon for entire settlements to get infected. Those who survived were destined to fare alone. She shouldn’t have wanted to rely on others, not with the life they’ve all been living, but maybe it was just human nature.

“You’re quiet,” he said while looking at her face.

She gave him a small smile.

“So now you’re talkative, eh?” She teased and Joel couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

They were nearing the trapper area and he insisted they took a longer, but safer, route. It would require passing through a few abandoned buildings, but it would still be better than what she had to deal with last time around. And it was. _At first._

They made it out of a maze of staircases, decaying rooms, and crumbled walls without interruptions. It was only when they were back on the street that she heard the unmistakable clicking. Joel grabbed her arms and put her against the wall without warning. Heat spiked in her stomach at the contact, and she didn’t know whether it was because he felt like he could manhandle her anytime he wanted, or because the last time they were in this position, things happened. Still, she remained quiet.

They slid down the wall, crouching as they listened to the sounds. The clicking seemed to die down and she shifted slightly to look over the corner when Joel stopped her again. He placed his hands on both sides of her body, not only blocking the view but also making it impossible for Jane to move freely.

She looked up to his face with a sour expression, only to see him looking down on her. For a few seconds they were staring at each other, tension raising between their bodies, and then Joel pulled away and stood up.

“They’re gone. Come on,” he said.

Jane stood on shaky feet, ready to tell him off, but he was already rounding the corner.

They were a few minutes away from the settlement, and the thought of them partying ways again was downing heavily on her. She didn’t want to admit it, not in front of herself, and surely not in front of Joel, but she came to care for him -- as weird as it made her feel.

“So, what are you going to do now?” She asked, but his face showed no emotions.

“Move forward. The city ain’t a place for people anymore."

Jane raised her eyebrow.

“The quarantine zone seems to be doing well.” She took a deep breath. “So is the base."

Joel laughed bitterly.

“I’ve lived in the quarantine zone for over a decade. It ain’t a life. It’s surviving off whatever the _government_ throws your way. Fireflies are no better."

“You made a living for yourself though. It couldn’t be that bad."

Jane didn’t know what she was trying to prove, but Joel’s approach rubbed her the wrong way.

“You have no idea."

She shook her head. Maybe her words would anger him –- put him off somehow -– but she had nothing to lose.

“I think you should stay with us,” she started. “At least until the winter is over. It’s dangerous out there, Joel. It’ll take you weeks to get back and you don’t even know if the place will still be vacant."

“You think I don’t know that?” He snapped and she decided there was no getting to him. Not unless he wanted that.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, her looking at him occasionally and wondering about how their lives would look like now. Whether they’d meet again.

“Thanks for walking me back,” Jane said, “and for letting me sleep in your bag.” She joked, but her pretend-lax tone was breaking.

Joel let out a quiet laugh but didn’t say anything as they approached the gates.

“Well, I hope you keep out of trouble,” she said at last and turned towards the entrance.

A minute more and she’d be back to her old life. As if she never left and as if they had never met.

The worst thing was that she couldn’t blame anyone for the situation -- it was the way things went sometimes. She kind of wanted to turn around and see if he left already, but she fought the temptation as she placed her fingers on the intercom button. And then she heard his voice.

“Kid,” he said. “I’ll stay. But ain’t no way in hell I’m joining the Fireflies."

She gave him a wide smile.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be a note about TLOU2 in the end-notes for those interested. If you haven't finished yet then you might want to steer clear although I will try to keep everything as vague as possible. In the meanwhile, hope you enjoy this chapter :)

The past few weeks were strange, to say the least.

Jane didn’t know what she expected from Joel staying in the compound but him knowing some of the people in charge wasn’t _it_. She recalled that his brother used to run with the Fireflies, but she didn't know it extended to the man himself.

But maybe it was none of her business—she knew better than to try and pry information out of him. Whatever the reason for his acquaintance with the Firefly command, they were trusting to the point where Joel was given a free hand in his dealings within the base.

And her father, whom Joel hadn’t met before joining the compound, seemed enamored with him. _Seemed _being the operative word--to Jane, it was clear as day that there were ulterior motives at play.

She had a feeling that this was the exact reason why Joel disliked the Fireflies. They liked to play easy-going, but really they were all for loyalties and responsibilities. All for the cure. Joel was a lone wolf and he was painfully disinterested in salvaging humanity.

Thoughts were racing through her head as she climbed the stairs to his apartment. She knocked on the door and he opened with a knowing nod on his face.

“Everything all right?” Jane asked as they sat on the couch.

“They’re planning something,” he said without a hint of emotion in his voice “Boston University.”

Jane leaned in the seat; her eyebrows furrowed.

“University? That’s something they gave up long before I left.”

Joel gave her a dry smile. “Things change.” He sighed, irritation creeping into his voice. “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to stay. I ain’t riskin’ my life for a ‘cure.’ It’s been twenty goddamn years and they still think this can be cured.”

As she listened to him, everything clicked into place. She shook her head.

“That’s why Mariah came here. They must be running out of options. They were just waiting for…”

“A fool to come along and do the dirty job for them.” Joel scoffed.

Jane looked down on her hands, rubbing her palms together.

“I’m sorry.” It was all she could say. All she could offer. They both knew how the reality looked.

He looked at her and his features softened. “It’s got nothing to do with you,” he said, irritation slowly leaving his voice. “I knew what I was doing staying here. Nothing is free. Not in this world.”

She chewed on his words for a minute. Maybe it wasn’t her fault he was in this situation, but she still felt guilt settling heavily in her stomach.

“I’ll go with you,” she proposed and Joel’s expression hardened instantly.

“No, you won’t.” His gaze was firm and icy cold.

“And who gave you the right to decide things for me?” She asked and Joel huffed, turning his face towards the window.

“No one,” he said finally, “but you have no idea how valuable your life is.”

His answer caught her off-guard.

“My life? There’s nothing special about my life.”

“You sure treat it that way,” he said and turned towards her. “You’re so willin’ to just throw it all away.”

Jane studied his face for a few seconds, hoping to get the bottom of what he meant, but his expression was impenetrable.

“I’m having a hard time following you, Joel.”

He sighed.

“Regular folk keep out of harm’s way and minimize the risks. Not the Fireflies and not you. You’re just itchin’ to go to the most infected place in town.”

The nerve of him.

“You’re a smuggler,” she said. “You literally go into the harm’s way.”

He laughed bitterly. “Endure and survive. I smuggle to survive. I endure whatever comes along with surviving.”

She leaned back into the couch, the intention behind his words finally coming to her. As unhealthy as his behavior was, Joel cared. It was a strange realization—the one she didn’t dare explore yet.

“Anyway, you can do whatever you want,” he said while standing up. “I ain’t gonna stop you.”

And then, it was like the conversation never happened. They simply spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other’s company—Jane curling up on the couch while he quietly played on his guitar.

When she first brought the instrument to him, he’d not play it for her. He said that he must all but forgotten how to use it. He warmed up to the idea in a span of few days though, his first song being a gentle thank you expressed by a soft tune of something she swore she remembered, but couldn’t quite place.

Since then, he played for her almost every day.

~

When she lied in bed that night, she couldn’t cast his words away. She even entertained the thought of staying. It was a logical choice. The safety of the compound was unprecedented—any time outside was a threat of not living to see another day.

But now that Joel was here, things seemed different. He could more than handle himself and working together provided a more realistic chance at survival. Maybe there was a bit of fondness for him there too—a belief that they made quite a team, even if they only “worked” together briefly.

And then there was a thought that she owed to herself to prove that she _could_ survive outside the gates. That she was better than what her father thought of her. That she was above running back to the Fireflies when things got tough.

She awoke to a hard pat on the legs, her body jerking away in automatic defense. It was her father—smiling widely as he sat down on the bed.

“It’s a break-through we’ve been waiting for,” he exclaimed enthusiastically as Jane fought with the grogginess. “Boston University, can you imagine?”

“I sure can,” she answered and moved her legs, so he’d remove his hand.

“You can really help us this time,” he said and his face suddenly got serious.

It seemed as if the decision had been made for her long before she decided what to do. She almost laughed at the thought—it was way too naïve to think that she was taking a step for herself. She was nothing more but a pawn that her father and the likes of him moved around as they pleased.

“My last trip wasn’t help enough?” She asked with a firm accusation. Not because she didn’t want to go, but because she couldn’t admit that she _did._

“Don’t give me that look,” he said while looking at her irritated features. “It was just a small step. This… this is big. This is where we really can move forward with our study.”

Jane scoffed. She’d have to fall in line eventually, but she could sure question his integrity on the way.

“Why can’t you go then? Why can’t Mariah or anyone else from the command? Why send me?”

His eyes narrowed. There it was—the anger that he kept hidden so well_. _It’d creep out any minute now.

“Each of us has work to do, Jane. We can’t just drop it and make a trip outside.”

She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Sure, none of the big fish could leave—it was so easy to believe in the cause when your life wasn’t in danger.

He cleared his throat and looked down on his hands.

“You won’t be going alone. Joel will lead the operation.”

“Joel is not a Firefly,” she said dryly, gauging her father’s reaction.

Bill shook his head.

“Can you stop questioning everything I say? There’s a lot for him in it, I can assure you of that. You’re going. Now, get ready, we have plans to discuss.”

~

That same day, she and Joel sat down to outline their plan.

They estimated that the trip to the University and back would take no more than a few days. They had two safe-houses on the way, one middle of the road, and another close to their point of interest—established back when the Fireflies carried out research on University grounds. They both knew it’d be a harsh trail, especially considering why the place was abandoned in the first place, but it also made Jane feel weirdly excited.

She had never had a chance to attend university—the only mentions of it being passed from the older generations of Fireflies that lived through the outbreak. Sure, there were still classes for children, and she distinctly remembered how she enjoyed that time of her life, but as soon as someone was old enough to carry a gun, they were delegated to do different kinds of work. There were some lucky folks that proved smart enough to be trained by surviving doctors and scientists, but Jane never had predispositions for that.

Visiting the place seemed like the closest thing she’d ever get to the part of life that no generation born after the outbreak would experience.

“Did you attend university?” She asked Joel as they walked through the dead town, snow crackling softly under their boots.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was probably trying to figure out how she arrived at this question, having been quiet for the past hour.

“I didn’t,” he said. “I was a carpenter before all of this happened. I had to grow up fast and provide for my…”

He cut his answer short, forehead wrinkling as he clearly realized the subject was still hard for him to talk about.

“Family?” Jane suggested and he nodded his head before answering quietly.

“Yeah, my family.”

They were quiet after that.

The part of the city they were walking through seemed calmer than the stretch between the Fireflies base and the QZ. She didn’t know why and it made her uneasy—no town, not even a _dead_ town should be this quiet.

They climbed over cars that clogged one part of the street and the hairs on her back stood up. Something was wrong—a distinct feeling of danger that you know is there, but which you can’t see yet. Or maybe it was just Jane that couldn’t see because the second they landed on the other part of the street, Joel aimed his gun and shot in the direction of one of the windows. It happened so fast, she couldn’t even try to stop him.

And before she could open her mouth to berate him for doing something so stupid, all hell broke loose.

She could feel the roar of infected, loud and bone-chilling as they pushed through the glasses of shop windows. And clickers—so many of them that Jane swallowed deep in her throat, stumbling back into the cars. Joel looked at her with worry in his eyes as he reloaded the gun. That’s when the reality of how fucked they were set in.

She reached for her pistol in pure instinct and started shooting—clumsy at first, hitting arms and legs of the infected, and downing no-one. Then she took a deep breath and steadied her aim, her bullets flying through skulls and spritzing everything in blood.

The adrenaline was running through her body, making her focus on the situation on hand instead of wondering how they’d ever get out of this situation, but it started to die down as she reloaded. Her hands were getting sweaty—unable to hold the gun properly as she tried to shoot the clickers.

Joel started walking back into the cars, looking around to find a way out. There was none, she thought as her brain finally came to the terms with their situation. If they climbed the vehicles to where they came from, it’d be another stretch of an open street and a hoard of infected chasing after them. Pushing forward was as good as suicide, considering how many more could come out of the buildings.

And then she spotted a rusty ladder ironed to the side of one of the buildings. It was risky, but it was the only chance they had.

“Joel,” she shouted. “We gotta go up.” The information clicked for him as his gaze followed to where she was looking.

Joel climbed on one of the cars and extended his hand. “Come here,” he said. “Quick.” She grabbed him and he pulled her up to his side.

An infected ran into the vehicle, the impact of his body shaking the rust-covered metal. Jane kicked him in the head as hard as she could, blood splattering all over her lower body.

“We ain’t got much choice but to…” Joel’s words were cut short as he shot a few times, an approaching clicker falling to the ground with a thud. “Listen to me n…” This time the sound of Jane’s gun could be heard in the air.

The infected were closing in on them. “I need you to run from here to the ladder.” _Shot_. “I’ll keep their attention.” _Another shot_. “And then I’ll throw a bomb.” He then closed his fingers hard around her arm and looked into her eyes. “When you get there, climb up. Don’t stop and don’t look back.” Before she had time to react, he pushed her away. “Run. Now,” he said, and her survival instinct kicked in.

She jumped from the car and sprinted in the direction of the ladder.

“Get me,” Joel screamed as she caught on the rusty metal to climb up.

She could see how all the infected gathered closed on his position, the sounds of screaming and clicking mixing until she was sure he’d not make it.

And then a deafening noise. The bomb went off and tore the infected to pieces, flesh and blood flying around and making her gag. As she turned to the ladder, she could hear him coming.

“Climb,” he shouted, and she pulled herself up, metal clinking under her weight.

As she reached the roof, Joel was hanging on the first step. He started climbing with a few clickers that survived gathering inches from his feet, their frantic movements making heart tighten in her chest. Jane leaned over the edge and extended her hand, helping Joel up.

The moment he stood on his feet, he pulled her to his chest and let out a relieved breath. It was completely unexpected and Jane stiffened as she wondered whether it was all right to lean into his touch. Eventually, she decided to risk it, reaching out to wrap her arms around his waist.

He didn’t push her away.

Her skin tingled under the layers of her clothing and she inhaled deeply as he gently stroked the back of her head. No words, but a simple act of affection—it seemed it was Joel’s way.

“This place ain’t safe,” he said as he finally let go of her, his features turning into their usual harsh blankness. “We can’t get down now.”

“Why did you shoot?” She asked, sobering up to the realization that they were in this mess because of him.

“Some guy was standing in the window,” Joel said as he looked for something to help them get to the next roof. “Aiming in our direction”.

Jane was surprised. She wasn’t nearly as perceptive as him.

“That place was a damn trap. He probably wasn’t going to shoot any of us but aim in the window or something, so infected would swarm the place," he continued.

He found a wooden plank and placed it between the two buildings. “We’d be attacked either way. I could at least make my shot count. One piece of shit less.”

Joel moved first, extending his hand to help her cross between the roofs. “That thing back there was a show. They enjoyed watching us struggle. If you ever see a trapper, you better be ready to kill.”

They approached the edge of the next building, sun setting in the distance. “You see that building?” Joel pointed his chin into the direction of a massive silhouette miles away. “That’s the university. Our safehouse is near.”

Jane felt a tinge of excitement. Joel must have noticed how her eyes glistened in the setting sun because he gave her a small smile.

“Come on, we had enough for one day,” he said and started walking onwards.

She followed him quietly with a small smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm basically living that TLOU life, playing Part II during the day, and editing chapters for this story at night. It's kinda weird to keep up with my own AU when I know how everything goes in the game, but worry not--there won't be any tragedies in my story lol. And how's everyone liking Part II? I was super mad when playing the prologue, but then it kinda grew on me. I wonder if we'll now get plenty of fluffy/happy Joel fics. Kinda excited to see where the fandom goes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll, folks

Jane was in awe.

The University was obviously past its prime, but it didn’t make it any less beautiful. She didn’t know why it stirred such strong feelings in her--maybe it was experiencing something that no-one from her generation did, or maybe it was the dim memories that it brought back.

Jane was just a little kid when the outbreak happened, but she could recall some things. She remembered how her father would take her to the cinema--she didn’t remember any of the movies, but she remembered the place. She faintly remembered the smell too.

She remembered shopping malls, but only in that they were too big and too crowded for her comfort. She could recall her babysitter saying that she was off to college and that Jane would need to get a new one. It never happened due to the outbreak.

“You all right there?” Joel’s voice brought her back to reality. He was studying her face with quiet interest.

“Yeah, I just… I was thinking of my childhood. Before the outbreak.”

“That was a long time ago. You can’t remember much,” he said lightly but she could sense a hint of tension in his voice.

“I don’t. Just some things,” she said with a small smile on her lips. “Do you remember much?” She was testing the waters—checking if he was willing to share. He looked at her briefly, his gaze unreadable, before turning towards the university.

“There are some things worth remembering.” He wasn’t looking at her. “And some things I’d rather forget.” The way he said the last sentence was spiked with pain that she couldn’t quite place. It made her feel uncomfortable--as if she was never supposed to find out what he meant. 

She decided not to pursue the subject, out of respect, or maybe fear that it’d not go over well. She trotted forward to the university gate and clasped her hands around the cold metal, trying to pull it forward. It wouldn’t budge.

“It’s closed,” she said as Joel approached her. He pulled on the gate himself, looking for an entry point.

“We’re not cutting through here,” he said. “There might be another way in.”

Jane looked around before focusing on the gate again, the idea brewing in her head.

“Or you could lift me up,” she said. “I’ll find a generator and power the gate.”

Joel stiffened momentarily before regaining his usual composure.

“That’s too dangerous,” he said after a moment, his voice calm but firm.

She sighed. “What other option do we have? They locked this place down. Even _if_ there's another entry, it might be blocked as well,” she said. “Or worse, it could lead straight into a nest.”

He was quiet for a second, visibly waging how to sway her in his favor.

“And who’s to say the courtyard isn’t swarmed? You get attacked out there and I won’t be able to help you.”

Jane put her hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly as she looked into his eyes.

“I can handle myself. You just need to trust me,” she said and his features hardened for a second before softening slowly as he gave up.

“Alright,” he said and turned his back to the gate. “Come ‘ere then.”

He helped her up, observing as she threw her legs over the gate and jumped down with a soft thud. She reached for her knife before scanning the environment. It seemed calm, but in her experience, every hellish place seemed calm at first.

“I’ll just be a minute,” she joked lightly but Joel only scoffed.

Lucky for them, the yellow cable of the generator was easy to spot and she was soon pulling on the handle to start the machine. Once it was on, the gate opened with a heavy screech—she hoped the infected were bottled up behind thick, stone walls because otherwise, they’d have nothing short of a field-day.

“No swarms,” she said as Joel joined at her side.

“Not yet.” He reached for his gun.

“Do we know where we’re going?” She asked while looking around. The campus was massive—she imagined the Fireflies didn’t cover half the ground while they worked here.

“Building C. That was their research wing.”

Joel led the way and she followed, measuring every step as she walked down the courtyard.

It really was a shame about what happened here, she thought as they stepped over the skeletal remains littering the ground. A freak accident too from what she remembered—they were cleaning a closed-off part of the building, not expecting some of the monstrosities that lurked in to obliterate the team and break into the occupied area. There was no time to collect the data, no time to do anything really other than to evacuate the key players—if they survived the attack that was—and seal off the place.

There were attempts to return but they always failed miserably. After one too many soldiers didn’t make it back home, people were at the brink of the riot. They had to give up. Until they got a pair of fools with nothing to lose that was. Jane scoffed under her nose.

“I think we can try here,” Joel said as he peered through the window of Building C.

He tampered with the frame until it gave in with a small squeak and then he slid in, extending his hand to help Jane in. The hall was quiet and empty, but she knew it was just an illusion of safety—the infected were scattered all around the building, walking aimlessly as they waited for the littlest bit of noise. 

They carefully stepped on the floor littered in papers and broken glass, trails of blood here and there revealing the final paths of those who died inside. And there were bodies, of course. Jane kneeled by one of the husks and reached around its neck, pulling out a dog tag. _James Wilson,_ it said. She wondered if anyone remembered him. If the Fireflies remembered him.

“We’ll check this level first,” Joel said as he looked around the place. “I have no goddamned idea where they stored the data.”

They entered into one of the many similar corridors, the unmistakable sound of clicking following them from behind the walls. The further in they went, the louder it got, slowly turning into a cacophony of noise. She had no idea how many infected there were, but she knew it was more than two people could take down in direct combat.

Joel seemed to think the same as she noticed a nail bomb in his hand. She reached for her own. They stood by the arch leading to one of the halls and observed the clickers twitching back and forth—all of them in the remains of Firefly guard outfits.

“You ready?” Joel whispered and she clutched onto the can. “One, two…” When he said three, they both threw the bombs that exploded with a grueling sound, filling the space with smoke. And then, they went in, slaughtering everything in their path. In some twisted way, she enjoyed watching Joel slash clicker after clicker—his composure strong and aim immaculate as he moved from one enemy to another. It was clear that he’d been doing it for years.

Jane might not have been as precise as him, but she was proud of herself as the last body fell to the floor with a thud. They looked at each other and Joel gave her a small nod.

“Let’s check those rooms,” he said.

It seemed that the level they were on didn’t house labs, but offices, and it gave her a small hope that they wouldn’t need to clear the entirety of the building to find what they were looking for. Wouldn’t the Fireflies document all they did and store it here?

She and Joel split, covering rooms on both sides of the corridor, and they both stepped out with numerous files under their arms.

“We can set up here,” she said while pointing to a conference room.

They sat down, Jane on one side of the table and he on the other, and got to reading. She didn’t know what they were looking for—not exactly--but all the papers she shifted through made her aware that it was not it. No mentions of cure in any of them. No mentions of work they must have carried out in this very building. Judging by Joel’s expression as his eyes skimmed over pages, he didn’t find anything useful either.

Jane reached for another file, propping her legs on the table. It could take a long time.

“You’re too comfortable for your own good,” Joel said from under his papers, his tone almost teasing.

“Don’t blame me just because you’re so stiff,” she retorted without looking at him and she could hear his soft laugh.

“I don’t think we’ll find anything in here,” he said after a moment.

“Me neither,” she put her papers and legs down.

She looked at him, his features soft as he started to organize his papers. 

“Joel,” she said quietly. “Do you know what we’re looking for exactly?”

He stopped shifting papers, his muscles flexing as he understood the real question she was asking.

“I don’t,” he said, his voice edging on rough.

Jane shifted in the chair, unsure whether she should push any further. She was telling herself that his past was none of her business—that they all have done things they didn’t want to talk about. That she should respect his boundaries.

But he wasn’t just a stranger anymore. He was growing on her and she wished she knew more than random information that slipped the net when he wasn’t minding himself.

“You were a Firefly though, weren’t you?” She asked, deciding that she should be straight-forward if he was to be honest with her. “It was more than just your brother, wasn’t it?

Jane expected him to ward her off—to get mad for prying, but he just sighed instead, sitting down back into his chair.

“I was,” he said, “but I left that life behind a long time ago now.”

“Why?” She was watching his face, every little twitch of it as he thought on his answer.

“I didn’t like how they do things.”

His face was emotionless again. He was closing himself off. 

“You know, Joel,” she said as she leaned into her chair. “I don’t care what you did in the past. I don’t want to know your secrets or your traumas, or whatever else you think I’m trying to reach for here.” Her gaze shifted from his face to the window. “God knows we all have plenty of those. I just thought we should be more than strangers by now.”

He sat on her words for a few seconds, a small hum coming from his lips before he started to speak.

“It was soon after the outbreak. I was... mad at the government. At the army. I thought they deserved whatever the Fireflies—whatever _we_ were throwing at them. But then I understood the Fireflies were no better. They were just a different shade of the same thing… Maybe they were worse.” He exhaled, the words coming out of him in force now. “In the end, I understood I had nothing to fight for. For either side.”

Jane didn’t know what to say. This might have been the most she’d ever heard from him in one sitting and it was loaded. Raw. Not something she felt she had the right to dive into at that moment.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said instead and he stood from his chair.

“We need to clean one more floor today. Then we’re heading back,” he said while approaching the door. His gun was already in his hand.

“Sure,” she whispered more to herself than to him before following into his footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was shorter than usual--a bridge chapter of short. There's A LOT coming in the next one and I just thought I needed a bit of background before that.


	10. Chapter 10

“I don’t like this,” Joel said gravely as they made their way to the second floor.

She didn’t like this either—the hall they reached was completely empty yet the sounds of infected could be heard from every side. How many people died here exactly?

Jane had a feeling that the Fireflies weren’t entirely honest in speaking of what was going on at the university. She believed in accidents—they happened and there was nothing anyone could do about them—but the amount of death they encountered was exceeding her expectations.

They rounded the corner and came face to face with a group of clickers; their bodies bending and cracking as they shuffled back and forth. Once again, too many to be taken down in hand to hand combat.

“Get your bomb ready,” Joel whispered and she did, aiming at the group. “I have a feeling we’ll get flooded once they go off. Stay back and line your shots,” he instructed in a harsh tone.

And he was right. Once the bombs exploded, taking down a few clickers, a bunch of runners poured into the hall. Jane could feel a gulp forming in her throat as she gripped on her gun. She managed to take down a few, her bullets cracking skulls and making the bodies fall with a nerve-wracking twitch, but as she lined another shot, one of the runners caught her from behind, teeth clinking a mere inch from her throat.

Adrenaline spiked through her body, cold and overwhelming, and she turned around faster than she thought possible and ran her knife through its neck, taking it all the way down to the arm. Barely did the body manage to fall to the ground when another runner jumped on her.

“Fuck,” she mumbled through gritted teeth as she stabbed him in the temple. She could see all the details of his face—the way in which the infection rendered him into a grotesque version of a person—blood-shot eyes, decaying skin, and the fungal grown coming out of places that she didn’t think possible.

And the smell—no-one ever talked about how bad they smelled. It was like finding a corpse that fermented in the moss throughout a very hot summer.

She gagged slightly as the body slid to the floor.

“You good?” Joel was approaching her.

“I am.” She exhaled slowly as she wiped the knife on her pants. “But this fucking place, I swear to God,” she said and he laughed quietly.

“Told ya, you were better off staying behind.” There was nothing mean about his words—he was teasing her and the corner of her lips turned at the realization.

She scoffed.

“As if you’d survive this place alone,” she said as he passed her by.

“I probably wouldn’t,” he admitted quietly while walking down the hall. She followed closely. “Let’s check those rooms.”

The second floor didn’t seem to house labs either—or at least not many of them—but she could see the Firefly seals dividing parts of the hall and she took it as a good sign. A closer search revealed that her hope was unfounded. There were some logs scattered here and there, and they learned more than on the first floor, but that was still not _it._

“Do you think they did it on purpose?” She joked as they entered one of the classrooms. “House your research on the highest floor so no-one can access it without fighting a horde of infected?”

“A sound plan until it comes back to bite you in the ass,” Joel said as he shifted through a stack of papers lying on one of the desks. “Fireflies might be better at self-sabotage than I thought.”

Jane laughed quietly as she went into the next room but the sound died in her throat when she saw the whiteboard.

“Holy…,” she whispered as she approached it. “Joel,” she shouted and he was by her side in seconds. 

She let him study the board for a few seconds before speaking.

“Were they…”

“Yes,” he interrupted her harshly as he read the notes.

Jane took a deep breath.

“My father told me that they were testing on animals but people?”

It was clear as day—stages of infection on humans marked with test subjects numbers—yet she couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She’d known for some time known how ruthless the Fireflies could be… how singular in their goal, but she never came face to face with this strong of a proof. Worse yet, their findings shook her own core of reality.

Jane had a good reason to dismiss their attempts at the cure. Anyone who wasn’t blindly loyal would doubt them after twenty years, and the reality of their actions—of all the sabotages, attacks, and murders—was just another factor in her distaste. But seeing that they were, in fact, going somewhere; the _proof _that there could be a different world for all of them—she couldn’t dismiss it quite as easily.

And then she looked at the test subject numbers again, reminding herself that those were actual human beings, most probably dragged into this against their will, and nausea raised in her throat. In a way, she wished she’d never learned any of it. 

“We need to write this down,” Joel said and she was startled, forgetting that he stood right next to her. “I’ll do it. You look around and see if we can find anything else.”

“Do you think there’s more to find?”

“This can’t be all they did,” he said and she couldn’t quite read his tone. “Look around and we’ll clean the last floor tomorrow.”

Jane nodded her head as she cautiously looked around the room, examining every nook and cranny to ensure she didn’t miss anything. The implications of the Firefly experiments were still rattling in her head as she walked into the next classroom. Nothing of value there either, but she noticed that one of the adjunct doors were locked, and excitement spiked through her at the realization. There must have been important things inside. Privy. Maybe even the solid data they were looking for.

She slowly placed the shiv inside the lock, wiggling it gently until the door gave up and she pressed in without a second thought. The moment she stepped inside, she could hear the roar of the infected. He ran into her with the force that made her fall to the floor, her head hitting the cold tiles. Her eyesight darkened for a second and when it came back, there were two infected grabbing onto her, their teeth nearly making contact with her skin.

She tried to wiggle her way out, wedging her knee between herself and one of them while elbowing the other one. Her attempt was futile. Two vicious, overpowered runners were enough to take down way more than one woman pressed to the floor with no room to move. Panic settled in her guts--an overwhelming, mind-numbing dread that she was going to die right there and then. 

“Joel,” she screamed while doing her utmost to not give in, but he was already by her side, kicking one of the infected in the head while shooting another.

She exhaled with relief, getting back on her wobbly feet with the heart still thumping in her chest.

“That was close,” she said to relieve the tension that hung heavy in the air, but it helped none as Joel grabbed on her arm.

“Were you bitten?” He asked even though he was already checking for marks.

“No,” she said while trying to get free of his grip. “I don’t think so.”

He wouldn’t let go, grabbing on her other arm to check before forcing her head up and looking at her neck.

“We’re going back,” he said and she swallowed hard as she looked at his cold features.

~

The walk back to the safehouse was quiet. They’d spend a fair amount of time not talking to each other anytime they traveled, but it always seemed like a comfortable silence. The kind that you shared with a friend.

This one was different.

They entered the safehouse, Jane removing her backpack and jacket as she plopped on the couch. He still wouldn’t talk.

“Joel,” she said to gauge his reaction. “What is it?”

She got nothing. “Why are you so upset?” She pushed a little bit. “I know I should’ve been more careful with that door, alright?” It seemed like her best bet—she knew there was little else that annoyed him more than carelessness.

He gave her a few more tense seconds of silence—so tense that she almost got irritated at his unwillingness to talk—and then he spoke.

“I’m going back alone,” he said firmly and she huffed in response.

It was absurd and he knew that.

“Yeah, right,” she said. “We’ve both seen that place. It’s not a one man’s job.”

“I’m not discussin’ this with you,” he answered and for a second she was surprised by the harshness of this tone. And then she got mad.

“Yes, you are.”

He ignored her, his jawline tensing slightly as she started speaking again.

“You’ll talk this out like an adult or so help me god,” she said and his features hardened. “What’s got you so riled up, huh?” Her tone was more than demanding than usual and she knew she was walking on thin ice, but she didn’t care. “What is it that you’re so angry about? That I wasn’t careful enough? That I didn’t…”

Jane couldn’t finish her sentence because Joel closed the distance between them, grabbing on her arms and pulling her up from the couch.

“Do you really think that we – I, couldn’t have predicted that? That I couldn’t know something like this would happen?” He asked and she shook her head, realizing what he meant.

“I don’t…”

His grip on her arms tightened.

“I knew what we were getting’ into.”

“Joel, you really…”

He was looking straight into her eyes.

“You were almost bitten and if I was a second too late.” His gaze shifted from her to somewhere behind them. “I already lost someone important to me. I don’t want it to happen again.”

There was a vulnerability in his voice that she’d only heard once before and her stomach tightened.

“Hey,” she said softly while trying to lift her hand to his face, “these things happen. It was my fault, not yours.”

His grip on her arms loosened, but she could tell he was not over it. 

“Stop,” he said, but she wasn’t giving up.

She put her hands on his face and he jerked slightly as if avoiding her touch. Jane applied more pressure to keep him in place.

“Joel.” He finally looked at her. “It wasn’t your fault.” She pulled his face closer, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb. Slowly, but surely, he seemed to relax under her touch. “It’ll be all right. We’re alive.”

He searched her eyes for a few seconds—his gaze softening completely—and then he pressed his lips into hers. They were rough and warm, and she could feel a shiver traveling down her spine.

It wasn't what she expected from him, but it was something that she couldn't refuse.

Jane wrapped her arms around his neck, her chest pressing into his as she returned the kiss. She almost forgot how it felt—or maybe repressed it in the back of her mind telling herself that it’d never happen again—and the reminder made her heart flutter. She could feel desire settling heavily in the pit of her stomach, pushing her to take more.

She caught on his lip, enjoying the small groan it elicited and drove her hips into his. It was then that she could feel the same need coming off of him, his arms tightening around her waist as he slid his lips to her neck.

And then he turned them around and sat on the couch, pulling her on his lap. She gasped when he grabbed her thighs, securing them in place before moving his hands higher and under her shirt. He was an experienced man, every touch firm and secure, but there was a vulnerability there too. Vulnerability and pent-up desire that was finally coming to the surface.

Jane pressed her lips to his, her hips jerking involuntarily as his rough hands traveled on her back. She tangled her fingers in his hair, enjoying how he reacted to a soft tug—how his tongue slid into her mouth and his hand rested on the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

She didn’t even know where they’d go from here—from this step that neither of them could take back—but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Not when he was looking at her with this raw need.

She slid her lips down his jaw and to his neck, enjoying how blood pumped under her tongue. Her fingers caught on the fabric of his shirt, forcing him to remove it with a small grunt. Before she could trail her fingers down his bare chest, he caught the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head. 

And then he slid his hands under her sports bra, the tips of his fingers grazing the sensitive skin and making her shiver. Joel removed it without much ado and then pulled her closer to his face, his lips landing between her breasts. He licked the hot skin up to her nipple, her back arching when he took it in his mouth.

Jane let out a small moan, the wetness between her legs becoming almost uncomfortable. She ground into him and with the way his hip jerked in response, she knew the arousal was becoming hard to keep under control. It was nearing frantic—hot and primal, and utterly overwhelming. 

“Stand up,” he commanded, his voice calm but strained with desire.

She did, stumbling over her own feet in the process, and he grabbed on her trousers, sliding them down her legs. Joel wasn’t harsh but he was firm, and the touch of his hands on her bare legs made breath stop in her throat. He looked up to her face, their eyes locking as his hands slid under the fabric of her panties and removed them slowly.

“Come ‘ere,” he said and pulled her back onto his lap.

Jane bopped her forehead to his as she worked to unbutton his trousers. Once she did, she wrapped her fingers around him, the hardness making her thighs tremble. She pressed her lips to his as she stroked him, enjoying how he grunted into her mouth and how his hands traveled up and down her backside.

His fingers dug into her skin, pulling her closer—pushing her down—and she obliged. She guided him inside, gasping softly as he filled her.

Jane started moving her hips in an unsteady rhythm, allowing the pleasure to spread down her body. It had been quite some time for her—longer than she cared to admit—and the fact that she was doing it with Joel made her that much more eager.

He was eager too; letting go of his usual reservations and meeting her thrust by thrust. Each one was filling her to the brim, making her realize that she was not the one in control.

The idea thrilled her. The fact that he knew exactly what he was doing and that even though he could have her any way he wanted, he let her take the lead.

She rested her hands on his arm, nails digging into his skin as he kissed her breasts, his lips traveling all the way up to her collarbones. He wrapped his arms around her waist, the friction between their bodies sending jolts of pleasure down her thighs.

They’d found a steady rhythm—somewhere between the heated rush and raw intimacy—and she basked in the feeling. And then he lied her down on the couch, too far gone not to thrust inside as soon as he was between her legs.

Jane welcomed the change; the weight and heat of him as he covered her with his body. She let her hands wander up and down his back as Joel drove into her. She was on the edge, the pleasure threatening to spill out of her.

As she was about to lock him between her thighs—to ride out the last moment before release—he slowed down. His movements were deliberately soft and breath caught in her throat as she gazed at his face.

Joel was looking at her with a certain kind of feeling—warm, genuine, and terrifyingly vulnerable. There was none of the anger he must have felt before. None of the quiet distance. He was giving her _something_ and she instinctively pulled him into a kiss, communicating that she felt it too.

And then he picked up the pace again, thrust by thrust until she was tensing under him, moaning hoarsely into his ear. The release came violently, the pleasure shaking through her in hot waves and he stayed in the entire time, his own body barely holding from giving in. He pulled out at the last moment, finishing on her stomach.

Then he crashed next to her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked at her. She smiled back, nestling under his arm. Everything around them was calm and quiet—peaceful in a way that she’d hardly ever experienced. She closed her eyes, drifting off slowly as she listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, they finally did it... it was a long time coming lmao.


End file.
